1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4normal one aims to be and share the throne

5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum